Clove
by amazinglilli
Summary: This is the untold story of Clove, the female district 2 tribute from the 74th Hunger Games. All her life she dreamed about competing in the Hunger Games to bring back honor, wealth, and pride to her district. Through this story you will see the games from her point of view and experience life, death, love, pain, and bravery through her eyes.
1. Chapter 1

I open my eyes in a flutter as they adjust to the light shining through the window. It's a bright summer day. Perfect weather for a reaping. I slowly sit up and brush the hair off my face. The air is lightly dusted with fragments of debris. Everything is silent, until my mother walks in.

"Are you up?" she asks opening the door a crack. The expression on her face is priceless. Her smile so wide you could fly a hovercraft through it. "I'm just so excited. I'm going to be the mother of the 74th Hunger Games victor!" she squeals. This is so my mother. She always gets too over excited about everything. Her voice is so high I swear it could break glass if she cared enough to try. It's things like this that make me glad I'm more like my father.

"It's not official yet. I mean what if I get picked and someone else take my place," I say frowning. I know the probability of that happening is little to none but the idea still irritates me. How dare someone do that anyways? I have been working for this since I was ten years old and everyone knows it. I even have the highest score ever seen in our district at throwing knives. The games were made for me.

"Oh, don't be silly! Even the older ones know not to mess with my Clove," she says setting down my breakfast tray and handing me my towel with a grin. "Now go take a bath. We don't want the cameras to catch you looking anything but perfect!"

"Okay, see you when I get out," I say grabbing a piece of bacon from her hand and walking into the bathroom. I shut the door and walk over to the tub, turning on the water. I drop my towel onto the ground with a plop and test the temperature coming out from the faucet to make sure it's warm.

As I look at myself through the mirror hanging over the sink my entire body tenses up. _So this is it,_ I think to myself. _This is the day that begins the rest of my life._ The whole idea is nerve racking, but I know better than to let it get to me. _I can do this. I'm going to do this. Nothing is going to get in my way. Nothing._

As I step in the tub the warm water surrounds me and relaxes every muscle in my body. Every worry I had just seconds ago ceases to exist. The lavish scent of melon engulfs my hair, covering every strand. I rub the sponge against my skin and every inch it touches becomes soft as silk. I sit there a minute but eventually lift myself out and dropping my feet onto the floor.

When I walk back into my room a dress is laid out for me on the bed. I smile, trying to keep my excitement from bubbling over. It's a lavender purple cap sleeve dress with a waistline that falls just at my hips. The material is so light it feels like air on my skin. I sit down on the edge of my bed and slip on a pair of black flats before exiting the room.

My mother and father sit on the couch in the main room looking through the window. As soon as I enter the room they turn towards me, my mothers cheeks stained with tears.

"Oh, you look so beautiful" she gushes giving me an unneeded hug.

"Thanks," I say.

"Come here," she says whipping a tear off her face. "Let me do your hair."

I walk over to the kitchen chair and sit down making sure to cross my legs and push my hair behind my shoulders. Her gentle hands tentatively grip my long locks and begin to braid the sides of my hair until both braids join in a sleek ponytail guaranteed to put every other to shame. She walks back around to my face holding a brush dipped in ink. She seemingly wipes it across my eyelids creating a fierce competitive eye. She then grabs the bottle of red home made finger polish and dashes it across every nail, giving the impression that they were dipped in blood.

The polish is a family heir loom all in itself. Back in the dark days when the traitors of the capitol rose up my great-grandmother used to add snake poison to her polish and strike her enemies with her deadly tips if necessary. This tradition has been passed on since then to my grandmother, mother, and now me. They won't do much for me in the arena because by then my stylist will have done over my nails but for now it will give me a little piece of home.

"Oh, look at you," she says stepping back to admire her work. "Everyone in the square will be jealous."

"I can't believe my Clove is the going to be the 74th victor!" my father says picking me up and spinning me around the room. He only puts me down when he glances at the clock. It's one o'clock. Time to go.

"Well you better get going. We'll see you before you get on the train," she says nudging me towards the door.

My shoes scuff against the stone road as I join the mob of people. Reaping day is always crowded. With all the parents taking their kids pictures, the shop keepers selling last minute items, and racketeers placing bets on the upcoming tributes there's barley enough space to breathe. By far it's the most important day of the year. When I get into the square many of the shopkeepers are shutting down their stores but I quickly sneak in and grab a raspberry chocolate for good luck. They're my favorite.

When I walk out of the store I am guided towards the check in table. Six lines form leading to a table of Capitol officials. When I finally reach the front a woman in all white gestures for my hand. I offer it to her timidly, knowing what's to come. A needle pricks my finger and an electronic shiver runs down my spine. Crimson blood drips down my finger and I can see a trail of droplets from others as I continue to walk towards the 14 to 16 roped off area. The number of people in the square seems bigger than last year, though maybe that's just because this year I've got more to loose.

I stand on the stone floor making a tune with my feet when someone taps me on the shoulder. It's Terra. She wears a plain black dress, her hazelnut hair resting in deep waves around her face. Her lips lined with pale pink gloss right beneath her prominent freckles. Just enough make up to make her sea foam blue eyes pop. She looks beautiful. She always does. Ever since we were little. I've always been the fearless one and she's always been the pretty one. Not that I'm not pretty, but just not in the way she is. The effortless natural beauty that almost anyone would kill for. She has everyone wrapped around here finger, where as I have had to work for everything I have. Maybe that's why we're friends though, because we are so different. She has her things and I have mine. We never seem to but heads much.

"So, are you nervous?" she asks me.

It's a valid question, yet somehow I take it to offence.

"No," I say back hoping she can't tell that I'm biting on my lip. It's my automatic tell sign and she knows it. So I lied. It's not like I haven't before. To tell the truth would be to show weakness, and I'm to close to do that now. "How about you?"

"Oh, no. I've got nothing to worry about. No matter what happens your going not me," she says resting her hands on my shoulder. "You've got this in the bag." She smiles at me and moves back to her spot.

Just as she returns to her spot the entire square goes silent. The reaping is about to begin. I hold my breathe, hoping that it will stop anyone from seeing how nervous I am. The entire stage in front of us begins to sparkle and the anthem starts o play as the doors open from the Hall of Justice letting out all the district two officials. Mayor Apex steps out of the doorway first, his greased bleach blond hair almost shimmering in the sunlight. He is wearing a deep green tweed suit with a black bow tie and a satin top hat. His face smoothly shaved special for the reaping. Next are our past Hunger games victors, my future mentors for the games. Enobaria wears a sleek black jumpsuit, her razor sharp teeth displayed in a fierce smile. Brutus doesn't follow short behind her, his bald head acting like a mirror when hit with the suns bright rays. His muscles look so big they almost poke out of his suit. About five others trail behind them, their faces too similar to point out who is who. Lastly comes the district two escort, Daphne.

Daphne is recognizable as usual. Her fashion choices always seem to make a lasting impression. She has been our escort for the last four years, at least. Her stick strait bright purple hair and blunt bangs looks almost metallic as she pushes behind her shoulder. The sun almost seems to crack it as she turns her head, positioning her rear on her seat on the stage. She wears a floor length white gown, spewing multicolored feathers from it like a birds wings. The giant white bow on her head also exploding with the extensive use of feathers.

Once everyone has sat down and the anthem ends Mayor Apex walks over to the podium and pulls out his speech cards. They're the same thing every year so I don't know why he hasn't memorized it yet but I guess he doesn't want to mess up. Rumor has it that the last man who did was hung. Of coarse it was before I was born but some people still whisper about it from time to time. He begins to tell us the history of Panem, and by extension, the story of the Hunger Games.

"It was many centuries ago when the world as people knew it ended and the world we know today began. Water consumed the continent North America and from it a new nation rose from the ashes, Panem. One large Capitol city surrounded by thirteen districts that all lived in peace and prosperity. Until the dark days." He pauses, flipping over his card. "War, terrible war. Widows, orphans, and motherless child's. This was the uprising that rocked our land. Thirteen districts rebelled against the country that fed them, loved them, protected them. Brother turned on brother until nothing remained. And then came the peace, hard fought, solely won. The people rose up from the ashes and a new era was born. But freedom has a cost, when the traitors were defeated we swore as a nation that we would never know this treason again. And so it was decreed that each year the various districts of Panem would offer up in tribute one young man and woman to fight to the death in a pageant of honor, courage, and sacrifice. The lone victor, bathed in riches, would serve as a reminder of generosity and forgiveness. This is how we remember our past. This is how we safeguard our future." He takes a long deep breathe and sighs. "Now to carry out this extraordinary honor is our escort, Daphne, all the way from the Capitol!"

Daphne rises from her seat and slowly walks to the podium. Her heels making a pitter patter sound as the spikes on her shoes hit the ground. When she finally arrives at the stand she taps the microphone and clears her throat. "Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds ever be in your favor." She pauses letting her voice raise another octave. "Now the time has come to select one courageous man and woman for the honor of representing District 2 in the 74th annual Hunger Games. As usual, ladies first," she says in her Capitol accent.

As her hand drops into the bowl my heart stops. Everything seems to be running in slow motion. Her fingers swivel around in the bowl until she picks one of the perfectly folded cards. She slowly peels off the sticker and opens up the card, revealing the perfectly written name to her chocolate brown eyes. My entire destiny now rests in her hands. She quickly scurries back to the podium and reads it out loud.

"Molaris Albin"


	2. Chapter 2

The girls face goes blank. She's only three people away. I can see the look on her face. Despite the cheers from the crowd, she's scared. I remember her from school a couple years ago. We talked a little maybe when we were younger. She used to be like me, strong and brave, until her brother got picked. I remember that day like it's the back of my hand.

It was the 70th Hunger Games reaping and he was 18 years old. It would have been his last year. He was strong, muscular, and emotionless when faced with fear. He was perfect for the games, and I guess that's why for the first time in six years no one volunteered for him. Everything went well until the second week in the arena. He had teamed up with three of the other strong tributes but their alliance was becoming a little uneven. They still had five tribute left before killing each other off but tension grew high and was too much for him to handle. In the middle of the night he snuck away into the woods and killed himself. Nothing else was going on in the games at the moment so the entire thing was televised, his paranoid rant against the games, a reflection of his life choices, and a goodbye to his family back home. The games had driven him mad beyond anyone's imagination. Then when he finally calmed down he grabbed his knife and slit his throat. To this day there still hasn't been another suicide in the games and I doubt there ever will be.

After that the entire Albin family fell into a scene of depression. At first you couldn't see it but eventually it was hard to hide. They no longer went to _the Mullet_ for knife throwing classes or even came to the mock games that our school throws every year. I can only imagine what is going through her head right now.

Her grey eyes drip wet tears that stream down her porcelain face as she climbs up the stage, barley holding onto her sanity. _She must know I'm going to volunteer for her. She must._

Daphne's voice the devours the mild cheering that began to settle in the square. "Okay, do we have any volunteers?"

My hand shoots up high in the sky before she can even finish her sentence. Everyone in the square turns in my way, their eyes almost mesmerized by the presence of my hand. "I volunteer as tribute," I say raising my voice above all the whispers I hear from the crowd.

"Wonderful!" Daphne says clapping her hands with excitement.

The crowd parts way allowing me to move towards the stage but the pathway soon closes up behind me. Their loud hollers now blend into the background as I move along the path. Peace keepers surround me on all sides, their bodies making a sturdy wall between me and the world. I almost trip on a crack in the stone but quickly steady myself before reaching the stage. Daphne reaches for my hand and gently glides me over to the podium.

I can see Molaris wiping her misty eyes as she steps away from the podium. She grabs my hand and gives it a quick squeeze as she walks by. My eyes follow her as she glides down the stairs and off the stage without a sound. Her quiet feet barley make a tap. The Camera now faces me, though I can't peel my eyes away from her as she disappears into the crowd. Her cheeks now glisten as the suns rays hit their wet surface. Almost like sparkles.

Daphne's voice finally pulls me away.

"What's your name?" she asks in her high pitched capitol accent.

"Clove Sevina" I answer. The square is now silent.

The crowd goes wild. Screaming and grunting, and pumping their fists but it quickly settles to a quiet beating of hands.

"Okay! And now for the boys."

All clapping stops as nerves overpower the crowd. Nervous tapping, sweating, and heavy breathing. Even from up here I can see all the guys fidgeting.

I remember there was some talk at school about how a number of boys were thinking about volunteering but I don't know for certain. For all I know they could have all chickened out by now. A lot of times they do. Guys always seem to think they're stronger than us, but I've learned it doesn't matter what they think. They're wrong.

Daphne's hand reaches into the bowl and pinches a single card between her delicate fingers before moving back to the podium. As she opens stickers the seal I can feel everyone stop breathing, including me. It's not the same kind as before but definitely still nerve wracking.

I press my lips together hard hoping that the camera's are pointing somewhere else right now. I look up and see my face on the screen and instantly tense up. _Maybe it won't be that bad._ I try to tell myself. _Maybe I won't even know him._

I had almost forgotten about Daphne until she clears her throat. It's so soft I almost didn't catch it but I guess she did that was on purpose. I'll admit that some things in the Capitol are cool but obsessing over how a cough sounds to me is a little much.

"Dax Larkspur."

My heart settles a little. _Not bad I could deal with killing him._ I mean I've seen him a little around the North Village a little but then again everyone in the district knows each other. A couple glances were probably the closest we've ever been.

He obviously doesn't see the reaping the way I do. By the time he joins me on stage his eyes are puffy and his face looks like a tomato. _Okay, so maybe this will be really easy._

"Well then," Daphne says looking at the blubbering red mess beside me and spreads a fake smile across her lips. She's obviously just as disgusted with his break down as I am. It's pathetic. "Do we have any volunteers?"

She looks at the crowd almost desperate. All her friends in the Capitol must be having a good laugh right now. At least it make me look good by comparison. For a second the crowd is quiet in anticipation. I let out a deep breath but it's all too soon. And the winner is...

Just as I am finishing my thought horror washes over me as I see a hand raise in the air.

"I volunteer as tribute," the boy says in a strong booming voice, his hand still raised in the air.

My heart stops. _I know him._ No, not only catching a glimpse from opposite sides of the sidewalk but actually knowing each other. When we were younger we used to compete at the Mullet. He knows how to handle a spear, that's for sure. Almost as good as I am with my knives. Almost.

We've only actually talked a couple times but it doesn't take much for him to make an impression. Let's just say he's a little intense. He's strong, not weak. He's confident, not shy and self loathing. He's arrogant but brave and smart but a little unhinged. That's what I like about him though, that he never gives in no matter what. It's the one thing I aspire to do.

He walks up onto the stage with his head held high and his muscles flexing as his arms sway by his sides. When he reaches me he crosses his arms and sets his feet shoulder length apart. I tense up a little but nothing prepares me for what comes next. He looks at me, scanning me up and down and gives me a head shake and pitiful smile, like somehow I was the weak one. _Now this is going to be more difficult._


	3. Chapter 3

As soon as the anthem ends we are taken into custody and brought into the justice building. It's a large building that lays in the middle of the main square. It isn't nearly as beautiful as the Capitol but it's definitely close. The floors are made of marble, the curtains out of silk, and the walls are real mahogany. The place is so big my footsteps echo in the hallway. The air is much cooler inside, much better than out in the sun. When I walk in I'm guided down a long hallway and into a small room. I peer in through the doorway to see what I'm walking into but when I step in the doors instantly shut behind me. I look around and there isn't anything specific that I should be looking for, just a velvet green chair, a wooden bench and book shelf.

This must be where I wait for my visitors.

Everyone always gets visitors before you leave to get on the train. They allow as many family and friends that will come as long as they have some significance.

I run my fingers along the smooth wood that lines one of the walls. I turn my head to the window on the opposite wall is open letting in the slightest breeze and rays of sunlight. Suddenly Cato's face pops into my head. His glowing blue eyes that make my face turn green. That way he looked at me. What was that? Just thinking about it made me shiver. No. I will not be made look weak. I will not be made to look like something I'm not. If he wants a game then so be it. Let the 74th Hunger Games begin.

My parents come in first. The door swings open and my mother comes running in like it's the first time we've seen each other in years. She tugs me towards her and forces my head into the crook of her neck.

"Oh, darling, I'm so proud of you!" she says twisting me around a little, squeezing me tighter with each turn. "We're so proud of you!" She says correcting herself, stepping back just enough for me to see my fathers face. His expression says he's sorry but I can see right through him.

I make an escape attempt from my mothers arms and quickly wrap my own around my father. I close my eyes breathing in his scent, like fresh rain. Not fruity but not dirty either. Just perfect. I glance to my mother for a moment, her face says she's hurt but she'll get over it. I've always been a daddy's girl anyways. Her hand then gently settles on my back. We stand there, not moving, for a moment but eventually my dad moves away and places both hands on my shoulders. He has this stern look in his eyes, something I've never seen before.

"Look at me. This is important, okay?" he says.

I nod my head.

"Okay, so there are 24 of you out there. Not that bad considering your skills but you need to get a knife. Don't trust anyone, got it? Take your mentors advice and make an alliance with the other stronger tribute but don't get attached. Always put yourself first. There's only one victor, and it's gonna be you. At the training center you want to show what you've got, okay? Do whatever it takes to make them look. And most important of all, no matter what, remember what the goal is. Stay alive. No matter what you do, stay alive. No matter how hurt you are, stay alive. No matter how many friends you have to kill, stay alive. Got it?" His face stiffens and for a minute I feel isolated, like the only warm thing in the room is gone. I've been training for the last four years but somehow having it all come out of his mouth makes what he's staying stand out.

No matter what happens I'm going to survive. No matter what happens it's me coming out of that arena.

I nod my head. "Got it!"

The second I say that his face relaxes and he pulls me back into his arms. It's only a couple seconds before the peacekeeper come and signal our time is up. He releases me and cups my neck, kissing my forehead. My mother stands be hind him too choked up to speak.

"We love you sweetheart. See you soon!" She says as the peacekeepers shuts the door.

Slam! Silence quickly overpowers the room. A single tear drips down my cheek but I quickly wipe it away. Not now. Not today. Not ever again.

I hear a squeak and turn around and my gloomy face instantly turns into a smile.

"I knew you could do it," Terra says.

I roll my eyes and blink a couple times to . "Yeah well that was the easy part. Now I have to actually win."

"I'm sure that will be just as easy. If anyone can do it it's you. You know my aunt says it's not that different from the course at the mullet."

Her aunt, Lorem, won a couple decades back. It's really amazing how much they look alike considering how different they are. Terra seems more like a feminine and frail girl but Lorem is different. Even now she looks intimidating but back in her games she was vicious. The story goes that there were two weeks into the games. She was the one to beat. There were two weaklings and one slowly bleeding to death in the woods. The gamekeepers filled the arena with fog and released a muttation. In panic all except one ran to the Cornucopia. The other died only minutes later. She ran as fast as she could and the others were only a little behind her so she made a quick decision and started going the other way (right towards them) She ran right at them screaming and grabbed two swords from latched in her belt. She took the first one and threw it at one of the two. The mutt was just about to pounce on him so when the sword punctured him it killed it with him. The cannon blew before they even hit the ground. Then she continued to run and just as the other was about to grab her knife and swing Lorem chopped her head clean off.

To this day it remains my favorite games even though it happened before I was born. Every year in school we watch it when going over possible strategies. That last part always makes me smile. I just wish I get the chance to show people what I have to show for myself too. Who know, maybe some kid years from now will look back on how I won and want to be just like me.


End file.
